07 August 2011
preaching: You Give Them Something to Eat
17 June 2011
reflecting: Mark 4:21-34
15 May 2011
preaching: Psalms, Hymns, & Spiritual Songs
29 November 2010
preaching: Advent I: Hope
24 October 2010
17 May 2010
preaching: Interrupting Our Story: God's Covenantal M.O. (Gen 12)
20 April 2010
preaching: Re-imagining the E-Word: Confession, Cost, & Community (Ps 32)
07 April 2010
screening: Spoken Word, Preaching Visuals, & Prophetic Jesterdom
Spoken word poetry as embodying and unleashing the Word.
Using visual media to deliver and enhance the message.
06 April 2010
preaching: The Shape & Sound of Resurrection (Mal 4)
Here is my second sermon for preaching class. My first sermon started Lent, this one concludes Lent and anticipates Easter. I went for it a little by using music (the Welcome Wagon's rendition of the preaching text). I also tried to improve my delivery, there's still much work to be done. I had fun with this one. Let me know what worked and what can be improved, I'd love feedback...
22 February 2010
preaching: To Be A Good Note-taker (Rev 10)

13 January 2010
processing: Preaching Class Day 1
01 January 2010
preaching: GC Epiphany blogpost
When a new year rolls around, it’s a funny thing. Kind of a hinge, some people are left on one side picking up the pieces of 2009 or trying to keep momentum on what they’ve started. Others giddily leap forward into 2010 saying, “Good Riddance!”
We’re bombarded with advertisements and infomercials trying to help us start off with a bang. Gyms are packed for the first two weeks of the year with “resolute” people trying to treadmill their way to six-pack abs. Whether we’re part of the demographic that grudgingly crosses out the 9 ans squeezes in a 1 on their personal checks well into February or the set that has big plans for “O-Ten,” there is one thing that we can hope and pray for: Epiphany- light-bulb moments that help us recognize God in our midst!
This Sunday when we gather, we’ll continue in St. Luke’s “orderly account” (Lk 2:22-32) and explore Simeon’s clear vision of the child Jesus as Messiah. This vision, given by God and rooted in faithfulness, results in an understanding of who God is, where God is working, and what that looks like. What a light-bulb moment!
Epiphany.
Rather than mere resolutions or prayers only asking the Holy Spirit to convict and change us, let us pray that God’s Spirit inhabits, reveals, and animates us in ways that surprise and include us in on God’s redemptive reality. That’s what I pray for our New Year.
31 December 2009
preaching: Epiphany wordle
10 August 2009
preaching: I Am the Bread of Life: The Giver is the Gift (Jn 6:35)
As we’ve been hearing from the gospel of John the past few weeks, we sit listening, daydreaming, or somewhere in between thinking about the breakfast we’ve just eaten or ready for the lunch we will soon sit down to. We can’t help think about food and hunger, void and satisfaction.
We recall...
· Two weeks ago, we heard of the unlikely feast on the hillside, feeding five thousand folks from a lunch pale.
· Last week, prior to sharing the Eucharist together, we heard Jesus’ prompting the people away from the food they relied on that goes bad, and towards the everlasting food God gives, a sort of divinely preserved, original “Wonderbread.”
· This week, we find the continuation of this conversation. Jesus has pitched the importance and superiority of this bread God gives such that his audience is asking, begging for this bread, now and always.
I know all week you’ve been hanging on this suspense. What does Jesus have here behind his back? What does he offer, so as not to disappoint? How does he top the previous signs of God’s glory he produced (feeding & walking on water)? What is the punch line?
He simultaneously offers nothing and everything. His hands are empty, but he points to himself, to God. He says confidently, “I am the bread of life.” Just when they are convinced that Jesus shall and is able to give them the forever cure for their hunger, he says this. They want physical, they want now, they want something that they can have, hold, devour, and hoard. I’m sure we can’t identify at all with that mentality, can we?
But Jesus gives himself. All of himself, for their life, their nourishment, their growth, their sustenance, their pleasure and fulfillment. The crowd to which Jesus speaks seems to have a taste for bread; they have a desire, and a hunger to be met. This hunger though is two-fold. They can answer the bell of their stomachs and that is their primary concern. But do they understand here the call of their hearts, the desire of their souls? The one overarching desire which all their other desires mimic?
Reminding us of Saint Augustine's famous Confession, "Thou hast made us for Thyself, O God. And our hearts are restless until they find rest in Thee." Likewise, in realizing Jesus as the Bread of Life, we declare, "Our hearts are dead & hungry until they find fulfillment from the Bread of Life."
Let’s not be too hard on these guys though, after all, the story keeps bringing up Moses and their ancestors in exile. If we remember correctly, one of the things the Israelites were taught by the manna is that they were dependent on the God who provides, and knows best. The Israelites were both physically nourished and spiritually taught by this bread. They were not to take too much, they would never have too little, there would be plenty for all, and no room for selfishness. To be sure, the Israelites grumbled their way through the desert even though they had God leading them, keeping them, providing for them. They grumbled despite their guarantee of manna, they grumbled while a bread from heaven was in their midst. Why shouldn’t these folks in our gospel reading still grumble while THE Bread of Heaven is in theirs? These explicit parallels between the mysterious “bread from heaven” of Jesus’ mysterious seaside-smorgasbord, and the enigmatic “manna from heaven” back in the day don’t end here though.
While Jesus’ reference to the manna becomes more and more obvious as the story continues, the showstopper occurs in verse 35. Jesus’ words are, “I am the bread of life.”
· For us, a clear statement.
· For those familiar with the gospel of John, this is the first of a string of seven “I am” statements (bread of life, light of the world, gate, good shepherd, resurrection & life, way/truth/life, true vine).
· For those in Christ’s presence, this was a scandalous identification with their God (the Great “I am”).
This jumps of the page in its original Greek (ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ἄρτος τῆς ζωῆς). ἐγώ εἰμι= I am: God’s calling card, given to Moses at the burning bush. The Creator, the God of their ancestors, their provider, the personal God in covenant with them. Jesus reminds them in their amnesia, that they are re-living the story they think they know so well. They are neglecting the Giver for the gift. They are grumbling while being showered with bread from heaven. To phrase it according to this morning’s psalm reading: they have ceased to allow themselves to taste the Lord’s Goodness, instead they pass on it altogether.
One Hebrew commentator adds that the word used for “taste” in Psalm 34 has the sense of “trying something by experiencing it.” How often do we decline the best experience of God in favor of our grumbling or presuppositions, our own tastes or perceived desires?
So here we find an intersection of two stories. This is one of the artful and beautiful things that I love about the Forth Gospel’s account of Jesus: irony. Jesus teaches them a story that they already know, that is etched in their heritage- who they are, and what they already understood. Just like them, we assume that we know what we need. That we are the bosses of our hungers, desires, wants, dreams, fantasies. That we understand our history and our tendencies, that we can put a lid on the “what I need and how I get it” story the way they thought they could close the book on Moses & the manna.
In the same way Jesus jars this image of the Moses story open for them, reminds them of their ancestors in the desert, whose assumptions of need were turned upside down by God’s generosity and provision, I am reminded of a very important story of my youth. The popular 1973 illustrated children’s book, The Giving Tree, by Shel Silverstein comes to mind. I remember reading and having it read to me until I could nearly recite it by heart.
It tells the story of a tree and a boy. The boy spends his youth delighting in the tree, gathering its leaves & apples, laying in its shade and climbing on its branches. As the boy grows, he distances himself from the tree, neglecting it for other, “better” sources of fun, food, and leisure. The tree waits. As the boy grows older and returns the tree beckons him to come again, and find the fulfillment of his youth in its branches, trunk and fruit. The boy responds not with delight, but by taking.
· He takes the apples to eat in his twenties.
· He hauls off the branches to build a house in his thirties.
· He even saws down the trunk at retirement age to build the boat of his desired leisure.
· He returns in very old age, assisted by a cane, the tree having been depleted to a mere stump.
It was that mere stump that the tree was able to offer saying, “Come boy, Come sit down and rest.” The leisure and delight of the boy’s youth returned as he again partook of the tree, not in a misguided or selfish way, not in a way that overlooked the relationship, generosity, and abundance offered, not in a way that haves, holds, devours, and hoards. But in a personal, interactive, and intimate way.
The way in which the psalter entreats, “Taste and see that the Lord is good, happy are those who take refuge in him,” (ps 34:8). The way in which Christ beckons, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty,” (Jn 6:35).
· What am I praying for if not that God be my provider?
· What am I looking for if not the Thing behind the sign, the Giver behind the gift?
· What are you hungry for if not the true Bread from Heaven, the Bread that God Gives, the eternal Bread of Life?
· Do we satisfy those grumblings, not of our stomachs, but of our distracted and misguided souls, with filler, with bread that is not eternal?
· Are we, like the child in the storybook, eager to move onto bigger, better, and more fulfilling things only to later realize where our delight, our true life & savor, comes from?
Attempting to answer these, I invite you
to taste and see that the Lord is good;
to share in the Bread of Life broken for you;
to eat and not be hungry, to believe and never again thirst.
27 July 2009
preaching: Gathering Around the Epicenter of Healing & Fount of Doxology
The following are some of my notes from The Gathering Church on 07/26/2009.
What We Want to Be About (lifted and abbreviated from churchinchapehill.com): extravagant grace of God which transforms, love people incredibly well, serving people at their point of need, and by creating a safe environment where hospitality, love, and belonging are available to all, encounter God, demonstrating and sharing the message of grace with those who feel far from God.
It is with these in aims in mind that we check against, sift, refine, and seek further understanding on our mission as a community of faith.
All summer we’ve discussed Medium & Message, Practice & Purpose, especially as we try to figure out the shapes and feels of this church body (when and where to meet, what’s the next step?) Tonight we’re not trying to innovate or tread new ground, but rather to be reminded of our message, that our medium may best suit it. That the purpose of our gathering be contained by our practice the way proper wineskins contain wine.
As we flip through the several “gathering passages” in the Gospel of Luke we ask ourselves
Why do people come to Christ?What happens when people gather/interact with Christ?
How do they leave/what is the result?
Lk 5:24-26 Jesus heals the paralytic
"I say to you, rise, pick up your bed and go home." And immediately he rose up before them and picked up what he had been lying on and went home, glorifying God. And amazement seized them all, and they glorified God and were filled with awe, saying, "We have seen extraordinary things today."
Gives MOVEMENT.
Lk 7:13-17 Jesus raises a widow’s son
And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, "Do not weep." Then he came up and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, "Young man, I say to you, arise." And the dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, saying, "A great prophet has arisen among us!" and "God has visited his people!" And this report about him spread through the whole of Judea and all the surrounding country.
Gives LIFE.
Lk 13:11-13 Jesus straightens a crippled woman (disabling spirit)
And there was a woman who had had a disabling spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not fully straighten herself. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said to her, "Woman, you are freed from your disability." And he laid his hands on her, and immediately she was made straight, and she glorified God.
FREES up & Gives STRAIGHTNESS.
Lk 18:41-43 Jesus gives sight to the blind beggar
He said, "Lord, let me recover my sight." And Jesus said to him, "Recover your sight; your faith has made you well." And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God.
Gives SIGHT.
Notice the movement. This motion, this narrative, answers our questions. Why do people come to Christ? What happens when people gather/interact with Christ? How do they leave/what is the result?
PUT SIMPLY: People gather to Jesus with brokenness, ailments, death, blindness, disabled. Their focus is inward, their needs are disabling, we are reminded that the woman in Luke 13 “could not straighten herself up.” Sounds familiar. People come or in some cases are carried or led to Jesus, because located in Jesus is an epicenter of healing, a hub of wholeness.
From frozen and still to moving and able.
From dead to alive.
From bent to straight.
From blinded to illumined.
This is a crucial (as in cross/crossroads/no-turning-back) instance. Their whole predicament in this moment of encounter shifts from their brokenness, needs, ailments, lifelessness to Jesus and his glory. To God and the things God has done.
From inward to outward.
From dammed up tooverflowing.
From injury to doxology.
The epicenter of healing produces a fount of doxology. What a series of images for our PURPOSE! What a challenge for our PRACTICES!
As we allow our community to be shaped by this realization: each of our own stories of healing and glorification, what each of us has to offer to others in the way of healing and glorification let us now explore Jesus’ instructions for our prayer (found in Luke).
| ESV/NIV | NKJV |
| And he said to them, "When you pray, say: "Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation." | So He said to them, “When you pray, say: Our Father in heaven, Hallowed be Your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done On earth as it is in heaven. Give us day by day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, |
| Message | Greek (+ Lohfink Jesus & Community) |
| So he said, "When you pray, say, | Πάτερ, ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σου: ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σου: Sanctify your name, let your kingdom come! |
We wind up praying for God’s name to be sanctified, made holy, given its proper due, that God’s GLORY be revealed. Hallowed by your name. Sanctify your name. This enlists our image of font of doxology. That God’s name be sanctified. That the glory of God be evident in our community. What a prayer!
Secondly, we pray, let your kingdom come/set the world right. Here we seek the welfare of our neighbor, here we mend the fractures in ourselves, in each other, and in our world. Here there is healing and reconciliation. Here we may rightly love people, we may stand up for the widow and the orphan, we may feed the hungry, clothe the naked, seek justice, mercy, & humility. In short, by praying for God’s kingdom to come, for God to set the world right, we surrender ourselves and our communities to the tasks at hand.
NT WRIGHT: “Every Christian is called to work, at every level of life, for a world in which reconciliation and restoration are put into practice, and so to anticipate that day when God will indeed put everything to rights.”
Aren’t these requests suited to exactly what we saw when people gathered around Christ?: God’s revelation of glory, and God’s setting things right/bringing the kingdom.
Seeing that people come repeatedly to Christ as the connection to the Father and the epicenter of healing and making things right, we are shown what we are to be as a community. As we gather as the body of Christ we must be connections and epicenters of healing. We are able to call and to magnetize the broken world, to say as Sinner-Saints: “Come Ye Sinners, Come Ye Weary, Come Without Money and Buy.”
We gain inspiration from stories like the hunched woman, told to straighten up, from the man told to gather his mat and get up, from the dead that have been raised.
Lest we attempt to take on this impossible task by ourselves or forget how and why this just happened, we are shown a movement throughout Luke. In almost every instance, healing is followed by doxology. The healed cry out with a loud voice, jump up, run away, glorifying God, marveling at the revelation of God’s name. After we’ve both received and offered healing, after we’ve “tasted and seen” the goodness and mercy of God we are left with no choice but to exhibit praise, to aim our voices and point our lives to the Life-giver and Savior.
To borrow and riff on a phrase from Saint Irenaeus, “The glory of God is the church fully alive!” By that I mean, a church community, our community, celebrating and offering the new life & coming kingdom of God will exude the glory of God. It is then with the honest and beautiful rhythm of our songs tonight that we may start with a call and attraction for the broken in our midst and end by “praising God from whom all blessings flow!”
12 July 2009
preaching: Two Fear-full Kings
What makes a great leader?
Powerful presence? Personality? People Skills? Intelligence? Integrity? This question is unavoidable during election season, but also confronts us almost everyday whether we are leaders or whether our station and role is as followers and evaluators. Much money is spent and made in the book publishing, opinion polling, seminar, and educational industries trying to figure out and share some insight on just this question.
This Sunday our Lectionary texts provide us with a couple thought-provoking accounts of biblical “kings”. We are able to examine their mettle to see what they get right and wrong and try to understand, in a biblical framework, what God asks of us as followers of Christ and leaders of our selves, households, churches, businesses, and communities.
The Old Testament reading provides the story of good king David. We know all about David: from his shepherding days on the Judean hillsides, his unlikely defeat of the monstrous Philistine, his flight from Saul & friendship with Jonathan, his anointing as Israel’s king, his sinful rendezvous with Bathsheba and the subsequent slippery slope of deception and sin on to his repentance and the restoration of his legacy as a “man after God’s own heart” (1 Sam 13:14). Here we find David, just after taking hold of the throne (before the Bathsheba episode) bringing up the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem after taking it back from the Philistines. We may not grasp the importance of this ark, but for the people of Israel, it was of utmost consequence. The ark physically expressed God’s presence among God’s people in their travels- and eventually fixed their worship in the City of David- Jerusalem. It kept before them the God they knew, the God that was personal in their history: the God that created them, covenanted with them, blessed them, sustained them in the wilderness, and saved them from their oppressors. Most importantly, it constantly illustrated and reminded them of their God that loves them, perfectly and without condition.
David’s guidance and leadership of the People of God was resoundingly important in the salvation history of Israel. This morning though, we focus not on the act or event performed by David, the physical bringing of the ark, but on the way in which he performed it. The scripture says that he sacrificed in reverence, gratitude, and deference to the Lord. In the end it was not lost on David that the entire meaning of what he was doing in this grand event was for the worship of the Lord. How easy is it for us in our godly pursuits, both great and small, to neglect God, the one we pursue!
We recall Saint Paul’s famous warning & encouragement in 1 Corinthians 13 and imagine David tiptoeing both extremes: both speaking and acting in love and making a lot of noise and ruckus in the meanwhile! We are told: David danced before the LORD with all his might…David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the LORD with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet…[David was] leaping and dancing before the LORD. David’s wild celebration and dancing certainly didn’t spare the emotional fireworks, trumpets, gongs, and cymbals. But due to the unruly, intense, and to borrow Rev. Bogey’s phrase from last week: “Wildness!” in his love of God, his celebration and rejoicing was pleasing and celebratory of God.
We then fast-forward to our gospel reading where the evangelist plops us inside of King Herod’s court, who ironically was not even technically a king, but a weird Jewish/Roman ruling figure known as a tetrarch (who ruled ¼ of Judea, but in actuality had little sway apart from what Rome wanted: a figurehead of sorts). The fact that he is mentioned as a king seems not to be sloppy work by the writer, but rather a way of comparing and contrasting Herod to the one in question: Christ- The King of Kings.
Mark’s account retells what Herod had done to John the Baptizer: had him beheaded! It appears that John had two marks against him: he spoke up against a corrupt marriage of Herod and Herod’s daughter had a grudge against him. One curious little detail in the text is the phrase in verse 20: Herod feared John. Before all this, most of what characterizes John is his wardrobe and his diet: camel hair and locusts. In some ways this might strike fear into the hearts of posh royalty, I’m sure. I’m sure though that John’s truth-telling had more to do Herod’s fear than his kooky appearance. Knowing these two strikes against John (truth-telling and Herodias’ grudge) we find out two important things about “King” Herod’s fear. First, the gospel reading notes that Herod feared John “for he was a holy and righteous man.” Herod is actually pretty on track with this. He kept John safe because John was connected to God. Church tradition is pretty unanimous in John’s role as the voice crying out in the wilderness, preparing the way of the Lord (Is/Lk 3:4). Herod seems to recognize this. But where he goes wrong is when this healthy fear is superseded by the superficial fear that develops when he makes an unwise promise to his daughter and must face his guests and her. Quite simply, he allowed both personal convenience and selfish fear to overwhelm his fear of the Lord via John!
Afterward we are told that Herod is “exceedingly sorry” for having to carry out such an awful deed, and we must assume that that sorrow sprung from his realization of his own weakness, betrayal, and cowardice. How often do we submit to people and situations of which we are ashamed? We choose against our intuition, against the fear of the Lord and choose to fear men. How often do we let convenience dictate our actions? We seek the wrong things not necessarily because we want them, but because we feel trapped by our options, or intimidated by the consequences.
God, grant us the strength, purity of mind and purpose to fear you. Not humans, not ourselves, but You alone. Grant us patience and endurance. Sustain us in the difficulties and trials we may feel by following you and seeking Your Kingdom and not our own.
We return to the reading from 2 Samuel. If we’ve really paid attention we may realize that the lectionary text omits a crucial aspect to understanding the connection between these 2 stories. David’s success in bringing the Ark up to Jerusalem is actually his team’s second attempt. The first one went wrong in a big and tragic way.
We are told, that David instructed Uzzah and Ahio to bring the ark up. It seems that they chose somewhat of a short cut, or maybe more accurately: an innovation or convenience to do this. They assembled a cart, probably a fancy and well-built cart, to bring the ark up. During their attempt however, it seems they hit a bump in the road and an ox stumbled, in order to save the ark from falling and crashing, Uzzah did what most of us would do and lunged to save it. Then we are told (and its no wonder we don’t read this because it is curious at best) that because of his error Uzzah was struck dead by God (for the KJV purists: Uzzah was smote by God).
What was David’s reaction to this? Following this, David was both angry at and fearful of the Lord. Honesty. Uncertainty. Fear. Recognition of a power beyond his own. Someone else is calling the shots! The narrative then moves on to the second, successful attempt in which they bring the ark up, by hand, to its resting place in the city.
So what are we to make of this? All that anger, fear, and uncertainty gone? The text says that David danced joyously before the Lord with delight and worship- indeed with all his might (echo of Deut 6:5?). The loss of Uzzah was unfortunate, no less than tragic, but it seemed to be a method by which God got David’s attention and redirected the mission of David’s office. It purified David’s work. It stopped David’s work dead in its tracks. The initial failed episode portrayed David as enthusiastic and willing, but careless. In delegation and haste, he lost the essence of his mission. That essence, the primary purpose of his work was the personal, deliberate, and painstaking care of the representation of God- the Ark. Personal, deliberate and painstaking like loving the Lord with heart, soul, and strength! As soon as David had his eyes opened, as soon as his carelessness cost a life, David, being after God’s own heart, reevaluated, angrily struggled, and eventually regained the fear and reverence he never should have forgotten in the first place.
To answer our original question, we may conclude that David’s leadership strength boils down to one thing: fear of the Lord. This strength is the same almost-strength of the almost-king Herod. Herod thought to be afraid; to stop and wonder at the holiness of the Baptist’s person and mission. Then he shelved such an all-important notion in favor of self-preservation and social esteem. Herod’s fear was misguided. Herod’s love was certainly incomplete.
My OT professor over this past year stressed to the point of annoyance that, when we read, we must pay attention to the beginnings and endings of stories; that the main point is often revealed up front or rehashed at the end, and can change the way you look at the rest of the story. Heeding that wise instruction that we find that the whole of the book of 2 Samuel in fact ends with a symbolic display of David’s fear and reverence of God by building an altar to the Lord. Also, in a classic case of fatherly wisdom passed down, we find that Solomon’s first proverb instructs us that “fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.” No doubt, David learned to fear the Lord, learned to bend the knee to God out of reverence and out of humble respect. It is in this fear that he ruled over the people of God with justice and provided them and us an example of what it means to lead people by following God. This fear is not a fear of tears and terror though, for we see the profound movement in David’s emotions: from anger→fear→joy. We too must understand that it is in our honest interaction with God, and our fearful reverence of God’s majesty, power, and might that we eventually may rejoice in the salvation and freedom that God provides. So David dances, wildly and without regard to even the disdain of his own wife, because his dance is before the Lord alone and marks the resolution to his intense struggle with his God. We find David not embarrassed, not timid, not trying to be tough or dignified, but utterly joyous and able to act in true, unruly, and wild praise of the God of his salvation.
Theologian Karl Barth once preached of where this came from, the wisdom and fear to which David clung, Herod abandoned, and we seek by explaining, “The fear of the Lord springs from the discovery that God calls us unto himself and that his calling urges us to wake up, to arise, and to begin to live as his children.” It is as God’s children that we jump awake, rise in a joyous Davidic dance together, and live fearful and wonderful lives as created beings of a living, loving God. Amen.


(David painting: Caravagio, John the Baptizer painting: Luini)
13 June 2009
preaching: Mk 4:26-34

With What Can We Compare the Kingdom of God?: The Mystery of God’s Dominion in Parables
(manuscript from 06.14.09: Allensville/Trinity Charge UMC)
Our words have trouble describing and our minds have a hard time conceiving of the Kingdom of God, God’s Dominion. We sometimes recognize parts of it, or see hazy visions of it, as the Apostle Paul says, “through a glass darkly.” We trust in its power and existence the same way we trust in our God. After all, one of the best ways to understand a King is by looking to the kingdom. We do well then to try to understand this coming kingdom, especially as we pray for it to emerge. Not our kingdom, but God’s. Though we think about, pray about, and attempt to be about “kingdom work,” let us humbly and prayerfully try to learn more about this kingdom that is so complicated (yet simple) and so counterintuitive (though hopefully present to our “renewed imaginations”).
It is thus incredibly helpful and with much grace that when Jesus teaches, he illustrates for us: like a painter, kindergarten teacher, or master storyteller. In our reading this morning from Mark’s gospel, we catch a pair of a larger group of parables that Jesus tells to describe the kingdom that he earlier arrived to proclaim and the gospel that he came to declare. Jesus speaks in agrarian terms to an agricultural people. Though they obviously don’t understand the full implications of these lessons (honestly neither to we), they grasp many pieces to both describe to them and instruct them in their life after encountering Christ.
“The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how.”
How does this comport with us, now? For one, the mystery and hiddenness of the kingdom of God gives way to uncertainty and insecurity- two things we do not welcome but can surely understand. Whether our uncertainty is economic (as many anxieties are) or whether it is transitional (even as we celebrate our graduates and students today, an end inevitably leads to some new beginning), we all strive for some modicum of certainty, some bit of faith, some measure of stability. We find this in the kingdom of God, which Jesus ushers and calls. We know it is present, we know God works and will “continue the work begun onto completion”. But how? Maybe just like a seed grows. Underground. Mysterious. Beyond our control and beyond our comprehension. Mystery is scary though. Mystery is not something we like to pursue. Wendell Berry wisely reminds, “Never forget: We are alive within mysteries.” Though, it is within these mysteries that we have faith. And whether we unknowingly pick it up from the store or watch it blossom out of our back window, we mysteriously receive our daily bread by means mostly beyond our control. Our science tries to explain these processes, our experience seeks to refine and replicate them, but mystery pervades. Such is the kingdom of God: put forth by God, and mysteriously brought about by God.
"We sleep and rise, night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows and we don’t know how."
I find myself stuck in this habit, failing to reflect on mystery and on the fact that I am utterly dependent on God’s provision, despite any air of independence I feign. Jesus alludes to this. In the next verse (v28), he tells of the earth “producing of itself.” The original word there looks like, sounds like, and nearly means: automatic (αυτοματη). As far as we’re concerned, God’s working and provision happens automatically. God alone produces such a harvest. With this knowledge we must continually give thanks and never slip into a habit of self-sufficiency or ingratitude.
We also mustn’t neglect to see the mystery in the continued faithfulness of God’s methods. God’s kingdom, in this parable, seems to come about out of sheer grace. We are neither totally aware of it, nor do we understand its process, yet we can see its progression: first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head…on to ripeness and harvest. One commentator mentions, and I must take her word for it, “As any good farmer will tell you, patience and hope are the spiritual sustenance for those who labor God’s fields.” It is with patience and hope that we continue to grow, progress, and mature as God-shaped citizens of a baffling kingdom.
But that’s not all… as if this image of God’s workings wasn’t demanding enough to consider, Jesus gives us another: God’s kingdom is not only mysterious, but it is also seemingly vulnerable and insignificant. Of all the plants he could have chosen, Jesus used the mustard seed. As we read from the Psalm (92), the Jewish imagination was well informed with tree language, and how God would allow the righteous to flourish like palm trees and Lebanese cedars. Those make sense enough: palm trees for their fertility and rapid growth and cedars for their stature and aroma. These are things you expect, and I’m sure the disciples expected them. However, Jesus rarely figures into our expectations. Instead of these beautiful, classic images, Jesus slips us an unlikely allusion (unlikely like the weed-like mustard plant or unlikely like a crucified Messiah wearing a crown of thorns).
God’s kingdom is like a mustard seed. Once sown, this seed grows to great size and provides great shade. Jesus takes his audience’s expectations of the kingdom of God, a massive tree of life for all, and subverts it into a bush grown from a tiny seed, whose most noticeable feature is the rest and shade it provides for the insignificant birds of the air. Let us re-order our expectations and ambitions around these. Smallness. Service. These are the images of Jesus’ kingdom. It is not coincidence then that these are also the themes that shape the lives of our great brothers and sisters in the faith. It is in the heritage of the mustard seed that Mother Theresa of Calcutta exclaims, “In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.” She was well schooled in the kingdom of God and was a great ambassador to that dominion of humility, service, and smallness. She understood what we rationalize away: the results of our work shall only be great if they are infused by love and brought about by God; that our mysterious, all-mighty God moves in ostensibly small and seemingly insignificant ways, yet with overpowering and all-consuming love. Theresa’s kingdom-work resembles this mysterious mustard work much more than it resembles the way we are usually tempted to get things done.
We are then confronted with the challenge of Jesus’ words and the testimony of those before us and among us that have chosen to forsake “their own kingdom come,” for “Thy kingdom come.” We can choose to follow and participate in the kingdom of God or we can seek our own ambitions and “lean on our own understanding.”
It is precisely when we make ourselves available to this mysterious and humble way that God yields a bounty of miraculous and useful fruit. And it is in this process that we gain a taste for it and an eye for its presence and methods. We pray that God may strengthen our hands to scatter the good news of Christ and tune our ears, adjust our eyes, and renew our minds to recognize its growth and abundance.
Benediction: And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:7)
Helpful Resources: Boring, M. Eugene. Mark (Ntl): A Commentary. Westminster John Knox Press, 2006.
Marcus, Joel. Mark 1-8. Yale University Press, 2002.
Tolbert, Mary Ann. Sowing the Gospel: Mark's Work in Literary-Historical Perspective. Augsburg Fortress Publishers, 1996.
Wilhelm, Dawn Ottoni. Preaching the Gospel of Mark: Proclaiming the Power of God. Westminster John Knox Press, 2008.





